


In the Light the Cats Will Play

by LyraDraconis (NamiSwaannn)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pining, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29658519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamiSwaannn/pseuds/LyraDraconis
Summary: It's been over a year and neither Hermione nor Draco can forget the stolen night they shared in the dark Ravenclaw dorms.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 29
Kudos: 156





	In the Light the Cats Will Play

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AkashaTheKitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkashaTheKitty/gifts).
  * Inspired by [In the Darkness All Cats are Grey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12667224) by [AkashaTheKitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkashaTheKitty/pseuds/AkashaTheKitty). 



> Hi all! This story is a gift for one of my favorite Dramione authors AkashaTheKitty. She blessed us with one of the hottest stories I've ever read which inspired me to write this. This story is a continuation of her story [In the Darkness all Cats are Grey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12667224). 
> 
> If you haven't read it before I HIGHLY recommend you do not only because this story references hers often but because it's just so _good_.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> And thank you Akasha for all the delicious stories you've given us!

"'Mione, it'll be fun. I don't understand why you hate attending these parties so much," Ron groused yet again.

Hermione sighed in frustration and glared at his reflection in the mirror as she buttoned her blouse. She silently counted to five as she debated whether or not the irony of him complaining about her not wanting to go when usually it was her convincing him to go with her was worth getting angry over. 

The "party" he was referring to was a benefit put on by the Department of Magical Games and Sports supporting a new charity for underprivileged children by providing brooms for those who couldn't afford them.

It really was a lovely charity but a party it was not. Parties were supposed to be fun or so she heard. She hadn't been to or tried to go to a party since that night at Hogwarts. The night she had not been able to forget. The night that also almost tore her and Ron apart. 

She tried not to think about it, going so far as to not even think of _his_ name. She did everything short of obliviating that night from her memory but it was always there waiting for the merest trigger to pull it back into her conscious thoughts. 

That night took place over a year ago and she was still wrestling over it. Her and Ron were still together because they both agreed to never discuss it again and they both held firm to that agreement. She never told him the identity of the boy she lost her virginity to in that dark Ravenclaw tower and he never told her who the girl was who took his. 

Both claimed they thought the person in the dark was the other. She wasn't sure if he was lying or not. She couldn't say she was or wasn't herself. The signs were all there. Did she really think it was Ron the entire time? She still wasn't sure and she never allowed herself to dwell on it for long. 

It was a delicate, tenuous arrangement that casted a dark cloud over their relationship that they both, so far, had successfully ignored. 

She focused back on her current frustration. She had told Ron several times that these events were more often than not required for her to attend even though she despised them. 

They were always full of ministry officials, representatives, and guests who were there just to get drunk and talk about mundane things like quidditch, ministry gossip or worse, inundate her with questions about Harry. At the very least she wished she could find one conversation that didn't devolve into topics she knew nothing nor cared nothing about. 

He either had a shot memory or he tuned her out whenever she spoke since he failed to remember that fact after telling him repeatedly. Since his memory on Quidditch stats was impeccable, she was going with the latter. 

"I told you, Ron. I really do not enjoy going to these functions because they're full of drunks who only talk about inane things. They are not parties. Parties are suppose to be fun," she said as she finished buttoning her blouse.

She heard him snort something that sounded suspiciously like "you would know" under his breath. She gritted her teeth and ignored the muttered comment. 

Since the benefit was sports related, Hermione had absolutely no plans of going. Her department had nothing to do with it so she wasn't invited, not that she'd have gone if she was. She could just imagine the conversations. The only reason she was going now was because Ginny, who was invited, had to decline due to a conflict of scheduling and gave her tickets to Ron who was adamant about going. 

Since his favorite Quidditch players and other celebrities were scheduled to be there, their typical roles were reversed and now he was convincing her it would be a good time. 

Because of the amount of galas she forced him to go to she could at the very least go to the one event he wanted to attend.. 

He was as excited as a child on Christmas so she couldn't deny him this. 

So here she was dressed up and ready to go. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and smiled. The only positive of the evening was she was able to wear the outfit she'd been saving for the proper time. The event was formal so she finally had a reason to pull it out. 

It was a silky blouse and skirt set in a lovely cream. The fabric was sleek and beautiful, casting a soft sheen whenever the light hit it right. The skirt was snug around her hips and thighs and flared out below her knees trailing to the floor with a short train. The long sleeved blouse was modest, with buttons fastened all the way up to her neck, but the material was sheer. She wore a tight fitted lace camisole underneath, charmed to not be see through as she wore no bra. A pair of silver stiletto heels completed the outfit. 

She didn't feel like wrestling with her hair so she left it loose, only taking the time to cast a smoothing charm so it wouldn't be the frizzy mass it usually was. Her curls fell in close to perfect ringlets around her face and down her back. She looked good if she said so herself. 

She gave her outfit one last once over before turning towards Ron, already fully dressed and sitting on the bed leafing through the sports section of _The Prophet_. 

"How do I look?" she asked, holding her arms out. 

"Nice," he said, barely looking away from the paper.

She deflated. 

"Right, well let's get going then," she muttered, trying not to let the disappointment seep into her voice.

He hopped up, tossing the paper on the bed and led the way to the living room. Before they reached the floo he turned to her, taking her in his arms.

"Listen, we won't stay long. And when we get back we can have a little sexy time, yea?" he promised with a little grin.

She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. _Yes, because that is such a good time,_ she thought wapishly then flushed with guilt. 

_Our sex life is not bad. I enjoy our sex life,_ she corrected herself for the millionth time. 

_You wouldn't know the sex was bad if you hadn't given your first to_ him.

_Ugh, shut up!_

That damn voice always whispered in the back of her mind whenever the subject of Ron and sex came up. Really when just the subject of sex came up. It was annoying. 

Yes. The sex wasn't that good but it was not Ron's fault. It was simply an unfortunate byproduct of her pleasuring him and asking for nothing in return for over a year when they first started dating that led to the state of their love life now. 

After months of reaching orgasm and being hustled out of whatever room or secluded alcove they'd have a moment in, Ron never really developed the habit of returning the favor. 

If anyone was at fault it was her. Not only did she train him to not reciprocate, she couldn't bring herself to suggest he did more. Too shy to ask for what she wanted. To afraid of him asking how she even _knew_ what she wanted. 

_He_ really ruined every subsequent sexual experience she had with Ron ever since that night in the Ravenclaw dorms. 

She thought what she experienced that night was what she'd been missing out on by being so "prudish" and "shy" as Ron called her. All this time she could have felt like _that_? No wonder Ron was always such an idiot after he came. She thought she had blown a few circuits herself after what _he_ did to her.

Soon after, she finally let Ron touch her more intimately, awaiting the awe inspiring feelings _he_ brought forth that night. However, Ron's fumbling touches and gropes were _nothing_ like _his_ sure caresses. While Ron had no idea how or where to touch her, _he_ knew exactly where and exactly how. 

It was a rude awakening.

In addition to the let down of all let downs, she didn't know how to direct him. She wasn't sure how _he_ did what he did. She just knew she came her brains out. 

So she just let Ron do what he wanted with very little input from her. His methods were nice enough, she supposed, but he not only lacked skill he lacked sincerity.

She could tell they weren't for the purpose of pleasing her but to stimulate her body so she was wet enough to receive him since he thought she was finally ready to go all the way.

He didn't invoke that level of urgency that had her wanting more like _he_ did at all, which made her feel disinclined to go further with him. 

He was so frustrated when she'd turned him down again. Even going so far as to accuse her of preferring the boy who had her first. She had to convince him it wasn't _him_ (though essentially it was) and that she just needed more time. He griped about it for a bit. _"How much time do you need? You've already done it."_

It took some convincing but she assured him he was the one she loved and he was happy enough when she'd suck him off. She knew she was good at that. Unfortunately, even that was somewhat ruined by _him_. 

After that night she realized she enjoyed being kissed after sucking him off and was disappointed he wouldn't do it. He also wouldn't go down on her either, not that she ever asked. He had informed her without being prompted that he found giving oral sex distasteful. 

She accepted that. One couldn't miss what one never had, right? So what if she did it for him? She just happened to enjoy doing it. Besides just the thought of him putting his face down there was embarrassing enough so she didn't mind it that much.

However, their sex life remained awkward and achieving an actual orgasm with him without any assistance from her had thus far not happened. 

She couldn't understand it. Why couldn't she get there with Ron as easily as she had with the boy she hated the most? She spent many nights pondering it and finally came to the conclusion that maybe the problem lied somewhere else. Perhaps the problem was not going all the way with him. Maybe that feeling could only be found in penetration. It made sense at the time. 

With that perfectly logical theory in mind she finally had sex with Ron. 

To say it was a disappointment was an understatement. He barely lasted a minute and fell asleep promptly afterwards. He barely touched her at all except to grope her breasts a bit and grasp her hips as he plowed into her over and over. 

She reasoned it was because it was their first time, nevermind the fact that her actual first time with a relative stranger was mindblowing. Her and Ron were different. They _loved_ each other. Maybe because they thought so much of each other made it more difficult. 

After several weeks, the only improvement he made was lasting two minutes. He didn't touch her in the ways she wanted, barely spoke at all but to grunt her name harshly in her ear when he was finished and only then would he kiss her. 

She felt absolutely blindsided. Why was her experiences so different? Why was it so amazing with the boy she was suppose to hate and so lackluster with the boy she loved?

Due to the delicacy of the question and being the person she was, she turned to books. After careful research and bits she gleamed from overheard conversations, she came to the conclusion that what happened between her and _him_ was not very common. In fact, she was among the lucky few as most women didn't come the first time having sex, even so much as never reaching an orgasm at all during vaginal intercourse. Not only did she orgasm, the pleasure _he_ wrung from her was far and beyond any she ever achieved herself. 

Instead of feeling lucky she felt cursed. 

She so badly wished that night never occurred. Had she never been introduced to the wonders of orgasms by the hands of a skilled lover she would have been perfectly fine with what she and Ron shared. _He_ set the bar incredibly high and Ron was so very far from reaching it.

All in all, she was growing increasingly frustrated by it all. 

If he lacked in other areas of their relationship, they probably would have parted ways by now. As it was, Ron loved her and she him. Sexual compatibility was thankfully not at the top of her list of requirements for a happy, healthy relationship so she made it work. The orgasms she provided herself were adequate enough and she did receive pleasure in making him come. She was perfectly happy. Truly. 

_Sure you are._

The only problem was she still thought about that night. Frequently. Particularly on lonely nights or after sex with Ron, while he was snoring beside her in bed. 

She shook those thoughts away. Now was not the time. She pasted on a smile for him. Ron was frustrating sometimes but she loved him. 

"Sure, Ron. If you promise to not drink too much tonight. You know how you get," she said, fixing his tie.

He sucked his teeth but gave her that easy grin that made her fall for him in the first place. "Ever the negotiator. Fine. I won't drink too much. Satisfied, love?" he asked, kissing her nose. 

Her fake smile melted into a more genuine one. 

"Yes. Let's go."

-oOo-

"I want to go."

Draco sighed in frustration, rubbing his eyes with stiff fingers while he tried to figure out why he was even entertaining this argument. Oh right, because whenever Lucy was over, sex was guaranteed and he was in bad need of a shag. 

He and Lucy were most certainly not dating but had an arrangement of sorts. It wasn't exactly friends with benefits as they were not friends but they weren't enemies either. 

Really it was just passing time while Lucy was between boyfriends. Draco did not date as he was currently engaged to Astoria and would be married soon after her graduation next year. It would be bad form to be seen with various women when his betrothal was public knowledge. 

As such, he shagged his variety of women within the privacy of his home. Lucy, who was frequently between boyfriends, was in his bed more often than most. However, at present, he was seriously considering striking her off the list. 

She was being more irritating than usual this evening, wanting to go to a benefit hosted by the Ministry that he was invited to since his company sponsored one of the quidditch teams involved. Once she spotted the long forgotten tickets on his side table she wouldn't let it drop. 

"For the last time, Lucy. I have no intention of going to that bloody function. So either we shag or you leave," he bit out irritably, uncaring of his harsh manner. Nothing bothered Lucy and he found brusque honesty to be the best way to communicate with her. 

He really did not want to go because he truly hated ministry events. Dreadful affairs with stuffy officials and the cheapest alcohol they could get their hands on. They weren't completely unlike the galas he typically attended though no less dreaded but at least they served the best liquor galleons could buy.

Not only that but there was also the slim possibility that _she_ would be there and he had been doing such a spectacular job of avoiding her entirely since that regrettable night that had haunted him for over a year. 

Lucy caught his attention as she sauntered up and smoothly straddled him, undeterred by his repeated rejections. His hands automatically went to her hips though his body remained uninterested.

These days it took a little coaxing to get him ready. In fact he didn't think he had an instant erection since that night. 

He immediately brought his attention back to the annoying witch in his lap. He tried not to think about that night and he'd already recalled it twice in two minutes. 

"Draco. If you take me to this party, I promise I'll make it worth it. I'll even let you fuck me in the dark when we get back. I know how you love to do that," she murmured kissing his neck.

He ignored her last comment and tried to enjoy her ministrations. Usually her lips on his neck stirred a little interest but he still felt nothing. He sighed and gently pushed her away. 

Pop in, pop out, get shagged. Simple enough. 

The chances of _her_ being there were slim as the function had nothing to do with her department in Magical Creatures or any of its affiliates. Besides why should he be wary of seeing her? It was only a one off. Just because it was with her meant nothing. So what if it was the greatest sexual experience of his life? More than likely he built up the whole experience due to the novelty of having the swot extraordinaire panting beneath him that made it so memorable. That and the copious amounts of liquor he had consumed. 

It was long overdue for him to let that night go and the first step in that endeavor was to stop avoiding going places she _might_ be. Even if it was places he didn't want to go to in the first place. 

"Fine. Let me change and we'll go. But we are not staying for more than a couple of hours. Less if they're serving cheap swill as they tend to do."

She jumped up with a wide smile on her face, unbothered by his lack of response to her. 

"Brilliant! Well, hurry along. The sooner we get there the sooner we'll get back so I can reward you for your sacrifice."

He said nothing as he walked to his bedroom unsure if he even _wanted_ to shag her anymore. 

Within twenty minutes he was showered and changed and went to his receiving parlour. She was already waiting for him by his fireplace, her dress transfigured into something more formal. She had floo powder in hand, a wicked smile on her face and a dangerous glint in her eyes. He'd seen that look. Several times actually. It was a look she usually had before she metaphorically lit something on fire and laughed at the flames. He didn't like the fact that she was wearing it before they left out together. He felt a tendril of unease curl in his belly. 

"Shall we?" she asked with an innocence that failed to reach her eyes. 

He narrowed his own at her, his gut telling him not to go, but he had plans to get shagged tonight and he was dead set on following through. 

"After you," he said.

  
  


-oOo-

Hermione was miserable. Two hours after their arrival, Ron was already five glasses of whiskey deep and in the middle of yet another war story. She wasn't sure what was worse: being subjected to stories she heard over and over about a time she wanted to forget or being subjected to quidditch discussions. 

She took another sip of her champagne, narrowly ducking Ron's flailing hand as he described a particularly harrowing escape. 

She tuned him out as she gazed about the room. She hardly knew anyone here. She should really do a better job of getting to know other departments. She never had to work with Magical Games and Sports but that was no excuse. She made a mental note to properly introduce herself the following week. 

She took another sip of champagne, Ron's voice now only white noise, gaze wandering when she caught sight of platinum blond hair across the room.

Bloody hell.

Could the night get any worse? What was he even doing here?

She felt heat bloom in her body and cursed herself. 

_You missed him, didn't you?_

_No, I do not miss him. It was one bloody night._

_One bloody night that you can not forget. How sad that the mere sight of him can turn you on more than any touch you receive from Ron._

_Shut up!_

Hermione downed the rest of her champagne in one gulp in an effort to quell the absolute nutter of an internal argument she was having with herself. 

She needed to get a hold of herself. Perhaps a moment alone will do the trick. 

"Ron," she murmured, interrupting him mid sentence, "I'm going to pop over to the archives for a moment. There's something I've been meaning to look up."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Can't go a moment without working, can you?"

She had to fight not to roll her eyes back at him. 

"I'll only be a moment."

"Sure, sure," he said dismissively before launching back into his story. 

She stood and made her way out of the ballroom. At least she will have a moment of respite from listening to him regale anyone who would listen about his bravery. 

  
  


-oOo-

As soon as they arrived, Draco was ready to go. An hour in, and he was ready to throw himself off the nearest balcony. 

The liquor was even cheaper than usual and he couldn't bear another sip of it. He was about to inform Lucy that they stayed long enough when she turned to him suddenly, that worrisome glint back in her eyes. 

"Draco, would you be a dear and check the hallway? I've lost my bracelet somehow," she purred. 

His eyes flicked to her bare wrist. He sighed. "Must I?"

"Yes, you must. Hurry along. Someone might find it and not do the honorable thing."

Draco sighed again as he rose from his seat. "Of course, Lucy." 

He stood up and made his way to the exit. He'll be quick with the search and when he returned they can leave and get to what he really wanted to do. Due to his mounting irritation he will be sure to be rough about it. 

Once he stepped into the hallway, he scanned the ground half heartedly. A blur of cream flashed in his periphery. He looked up to see someone was down the hall. Someone in a long cream dress with long, curly brown hair. He'd recognize that hair anywhere. 

Hermione was alone and in front of him, walking down the deserted hallway. He felt himself react in a way he hadn't in quite some time, the stirring of his body shocking him speechless. It was good that he hadn't seen her in person since that night if this was to be the reaction he'd have once he did. Or perhaps because he hadn't seen her in so long was the cause for such a physical reaction.

He stood in place, unsure of what to do. The last thing he needed was to be alone with Granger. He should just pretend he looked for the bracelet and return to the ballroom but he couldn't look away from her. He hadn't seen her in person since graduation. Their paths hadn't crossed at all which led him to believe that she was putting in as much effort in avoiding him as he was with her. 

He could continue their streak by simply turning right around, marching back to that ballroom, snatching up Lucy, getting her home and fucking her senseless. He was definitely taking her up on her offer and doing it in the dark. It was now a necessity. 

However, his feet didn't move. 

His indecision was decided when she disappeared around a corner. His body jerked into action, following her seemingly on it's own accord. 

_Just for a little while. Just to see how she's doing. Nothing more than that,_ he reasoned. 

He turned the corner in time to see her turn yet another, the fabric of her skirt trailing behind her as if beckoning him to follow. Silently, he trailed her, the lingering smell of her perfume wafting behind her and teasing his nose. 

He was being a creep and he knew it but he also knew Hermione could hex him or any would be assailant to their eyebrows before they even drew their wand if she had to. 

When he turned the final corner he saw an opened office door. Bright light spilled out into the dark hallway. He walked up to the doorway to find her in what appeared to be a small office but he was sure expanded when needed. One desk occupied most of the room. The walls surrounding the desk was floor to ceiling drawers the size of shoeboxes and probably could stretched for miles if necessary. Hermione was aggressively rifling through one of them. Her entire body moved with her movements as she muttered to herself. 

"Seriously, how many war stories can you tell? I swear, I'll be hearing them for the rest of my life," she seethed. 

He leaned against the door frame and watched her, a small smile playing over his lips. Hermione in her element was a sight he didn't realize he found endearing. He let himself acknowledge the fact that he missed her.

She was in the paper for one thing or another at least once a week. He dreamed about her often. Pretended most of the women if not all were her when he took them in the dark. He was not only haunted by that night, he was haunted by her. Actually seeing her in the flesh soothed an ache he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.

He studied her quietly, taking in all the changes that occured in the last year and half since he last seen her. 

All this time he only had the image of her in school robes and the memory of all her curves he blindly but thoroughly explored by hand. He remembered how she felt. Vividly. 

His hands twitched with the memory. He frowned before stuffing them in his pocket. _You're being a creep. Say hello and leave you idiot._ But he didn't want to interrupt her or startle her. Plus she was putting on a good show. His eyes wandered over her scrupulously. By his well trained eye, she filled out just a little since then and carried it well. Extremely well.

The silky skirt was snug around her hips and thighs. The fabric caught the light making her curves stand out even more. The sheer shirt gave him a tantalizing glimpse of a snug, lace garment. He couldn't wait for her to turn around so he could see how the lace clung to her breasts. Merlin, how he had dreamed of those breasts.

She closed the drawer with a bang and opened another. He watched her arse jiggle with her jerky moments and felt his cock begin to harden. 

Bloody fuck. It wouldn't even stir when he had a beautiful and willing witch in his lap but it came to attention just from seeing Granger wriggle in front of him? Just how far gone was he?

"And why did he have to show up? Ugh of all the nights! I wasn't even suppose to be here!" she continued her tirade, her movements growing more erratic as she spoke. She closed that drawer with a bang too, her arse jiggling even more. He was now nearly fully hard from watching her. 

Was she talking about him? He hoped so. If she was so bothered by his presence that would mean she was just as haunted by that night as he was. Not that it would mean anything if she was, of course, because he was only here to say hello, he reminded himself. 

"And where in the bloody hell-"

She whirled around and cut herself off with a frightened squeak while still whipping out her wand out of nowhere in a blur of motion, training it directly at his face. 

He raised his hands immediately. _Should have expected that,_ he thought ruefully. 

"Just me, Granger. No need to hex my face off."

Her wand did not waver. 

"Wouldn't be too sure of that."

He gave a nonchalant shrug while his hands were still up. She had a point. He _had_ been essentially stalking her. 

"Fair."

She studied him for a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line. She lowered her wand but did not store it away. He lowered his hands and just looked at her now that he had a view of her from the front. The lace clung to her breasts like a glove. The sheer blouse was probably suppose to add a layer of modesty but it only served to accentuate her curves in a way that made it hard to look away. At least for him. 

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she asked, drawing him out of his appraisal. 

His eyes flicked back up to her face. She was clearly irritated and it shouldn't have been arousing but his body apparently thought otherwise. 

"Does it matter?"

"That isn't an answer."

"I suppose it isn't."

" _Are_ you going to answer me?"

"I thought I did."

She scowled at him. "Well, if you don't mind, this is the ministry archives. You are not authorized to be here and I am looking for some important documents so if you'd please."

"You seem upset," he stated instead of taking her pointed hint. 

"Nothing for you to be concerned about, I assure you," she said, her lips pursed as she studied him. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, so obviously unaware of how the act pushed up her breasts creating an entirely different effect than what she was striving for. 

Her crossed arms pulled the fabric tight across her chest and he could make out the faint outline of her nipples. His mouth actually watered remembering how they felt in his mouth. 

He tore his eyes from her breasts only to be caught by her lips. He missed those lips. Merlin, those fucking lips...and the things they could do. He looked away. Why was he doing this to himself?

Being so close to her after so long brought it all back. And to see her, wrapped in silk and lace, was doing more for him than all the women he had since her. He should leave but the memory of her and that night and the vision she presented in front of him wouldn't allow him to turn and leave. 

What was he doing? He was asking for nothing but trouble even being here. 

"How have you been?" he asked, ignoring his rational brain. 

She stared at him, her mouth agape for a moment before closing it.

His eyes dropped back to her mouth, remembering how it felt with his cock in it. He forced himself to look away again. Now was not the time for that particular memory. 

"Fine," she answered shortly. 

He blinked in confusion, wondering what was fine before remembering his question. Right. 

"You look more than fine. You look absolutely stunning in that outfit. It looks divine on you," he said, recovering from his brief lapse smoothly. He meant it. She looked delectable. 

Once again her mouth fell open. This time with a lovely blush blooming on her cheeks. She looked away from him, flustered and he couldn’t help but try to make her blush even more. 

"I've always regretted not being able to see your body that night. I’ve always had to imagine it when I try to picture it in my mind. Seeing you now and remembering how every dip of your body feels I can now better imagine it, " he said softly. He let his eyes make a slow descent from her head to her feet and back up. 

When his eyes locked with hers and he saw the answering heat she was trying to hide he made an impulsive decision. He wasn't leaving the room until he had her again. And he was going to seduce her to do it.

In fact, he recalled seducing Hermione was pleasure in itself and reducing her to a puddle of lust made him feel like he could conquer the world. 

And he wanted nothing more than to conquer Hermione again. 

They didn't have the cover of darkness to hide within this time but from the look in her eyes he was sure she wanted him too. 

Perhaps one more time with her will reignite the spark he lost for sex after having her. He never achieved that level of satisfaction with any woman since and after so much time he was growing progressively frustrated.

One more time and he'll be able to move on. But first he had to convince her and he was sure he knew how. 

  
  


-oOo-

Hermione's jaw snapped closed. Did he really have to bring up that night so casually after not speaking to her for a year and a half? And how dare he compliment her on her outfit that Ron had barely glanced at? That now familiar flicker of desire she always felt when she thought of him bloomed hot and fierce in her belly. 

_No, not now,_ she thought angrily, tamping that heat out with sheer will. The flames subsided but it still smoldered persistently. 

She should really get him out of here.

"Are you leaving or do I really have to hex you?" she asked, choosing to ignore his comment and her body's reaction to him. 

"Can't a bloke catch up with an old friend?" he asked, crossing his ankles as he leaned against the door frame, looking entirely too relaxed and with absolutely no intention of _leaving_.

"We are not friends, Malfoy."

"Perhaps we're not. Doesn't mean we can't be civil."

Hermione uncrossed her arms and planted her hands on her hips while leveling a glare at him. "Seriously, Malfoy. What do you want?"

He just looked at her for a moment, his gaze calculating. 

"Do you still think of that night?"

She froze. Why was he doing this? Why tonight of all nights? 

"No," she clipped out. He didn't need to know she thought of it regularly.

"Liar."

She scowled at him again. Insufferable git. 

"Do you?" she shot back not bothering to deny being a terrible liar. 

"More often than I should," he answered quickly, settling more comfortably against the door frame. "Has the Weasel improved?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stuttered, surprise that he admitted it so easily followed by that nonsensical question. 

"Has your Ron improved? Does he take care of you after you give him what is undoubtedly the best blow job of his life?"

She looked away, the heat in her cheeks spreading throughout her body. 

"I take that as a no," he answered for her. 

"Of course he does," she said and internally cringed. She couldn't sound more unconvincing if she tried.

"I don't believe you."

"It's none of your business."

"No, it isn't. But I can't help but be curious. It's a crime for a witch who can suck a cock as well as you not be given the same treatment. I never came so fast in my life, by the way," he stated as casually as talking about the weather. 

Her face was now on fire but a small part of her- a part she was not in the least bit proud of- was pleased to hear she'd done that to him. 

"I think it would be best if we not discuss that night," she responded, hopefully in a tone that conveyed her displeasure of having this conversation and not of the pleasure she received from knowing she made him come faster than other women he had. She knew there had to be many. He started in third year he had told her back then and she knew now he was truthfully talking about himself. 

Somehow that darkened room stripped him of all pretenses. She came to the conclusion, much later, that everything he told her that night was the truth.

_“So how do I range on a scale from one to ten, then? Perhaps an eight?”_

_“Twelve."_

_“I don’t believe you.”_

_“You should."_

"Has he got you off in other ways at least?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Once again, it's not any of your business but yes, if you must know," she retorted, now fully angry. He was messing with her, the smug prat. Of course he knew he was leagues ahead of Ron when it came to sex.

"Liar," he whispered again. 

She dropped her arms as she huffed in frustration. "What do you care whether or not Ron satisfies me?"

"Because he still hasn't realized what he's got. Because I'm jealous of what he is obviously taking for granted. Because it angers me that he still doesn't put in an effort to satisfy you. Because I'd do damn near anything to satisfy you again," he answered, his voice low and harsh, jaw clenched. 

He didn't move from his post in the doorway but she could tell from the tense way he held his body that he really was angry. She didn't understand. Why should he be angry that Ron couldn't do what he did? This was the perfect opportunity for him to rub in her face his superiority over Ron, if anything. 

It galled her that he put into words the growing disappointment she had with her and Ron's sex life that she hadn't begun to address herself let alone voice. 

She would never admit out loud that he was right. Ron never made the effort to learn how to get her off. He left that responsibility solely with her since he was always too busy chasing his own release. She constantly told herself it didn't bother her but she now had to confront the hard truth that it did. 

All things she would have to ponder more deeply later. There were other bits he revealed that deserved some thought as well. 

He was jealous of Ron? Why? He has everything Ron wants. Money, fame, attention. Was it truly because Ron had her? Did he really want her that much? 

All she could do was stare at him. She was at a lost at what to say to say. What _could_ she say to all that? 

_"I'll give damn near anything to satisfy you again._

He was always good at saying just the right thing to get her to do his bidding. She wasn't sure she was strong enough to resist since she wanted it too. 

"I did, didn't I?" he asked, his voice husky.

"You did what?"

"Satisfy you."

Her body clenched tight. Yes, he more than satisfied her. He quite possibly ruined her. She knew that he knew it. The smug smirk on his face was proof enough of that. 

"I'd give you anything you want if you'd sit on my face," he offered softly, head held back as he watched her with hooded silver eyes. 

She almost gasped at the way her core tightened, almost painfully. She should be angry, shouldn't she? Making such a crude offer on ministry property, at that. She was, however, not angry due to the longing she heard in his voice. It made her body buzz with awareness. 

"There is nothing I want from you, Malfoy," she lied yet again, injecting as much believability she could into her voice, "stop being disgusting."

The little smirk that curved his lips told her he saw right through her. 

He moved into the room closing the door quietly behind him. That was no good. She could not allow herself to be locked alone in a room with him. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave again but he spoke first. 

"That's fine. A mind blowing orgasm should be enough of an exchange. Tell me, do you make the same sounds when you come? I can't tell you the amount of times I wanked to the memory of hearing you moan in pleasure while you squeezed my cock like a vice," he murmured, taking measures steps towards her before standing not a foot away from her. 

Her eyes widened as she felt moisture gather between her legs. If she was in the right frame of mind she would have come up with something clever and scathing to retort. However, her body was not agreeing with her brain. 

A mind blowing orgasm sounded like a great idea to her traitorous body. She didn't trust herself to do what she should and give him the tongue lashing he deserved. It appeared that her tongue wanted to do something else entirely. Her best course of action was to escape before she did something she would most assuredly regret.

"I should go," she muttered, moving to step around him, ignoring the unique smell of him she had never forgotten. Cedar, mint, sour apples and something that was distinctly him. How could she have ever thought he was Ron with that unique scent of his?

"Wait," he said, his hand lifting to grab her. She flinched back. He balled it into a fist and stuffed it back into his pocket, "Right. I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."

"Highly," she said, ignoring the throbbing sensation currently emanating from her core. She should leave but instead of running for the door she remained frozen in place. He was being purposely crass just to goad her, she was sure, but gods, she was already so _wet_. Just from his bloody words and the way his eyes were nearly glowing with such obvious hunger. 

Ron never looked at her like that. Never. 

The thought shook her out of her daze, guilt flooding her for silently comparing him to Malfoy once again and once again him not measuring up. 

She was suddenly hit by a realization of exactly what was missing from Ron and her's relationship. What she had craved since that stolen night. 

It wasn't the fact that he couldn't get her off and never really put much of an effort into doing it. She was quite frankly use to it. She had long accepted he was a selfish lover. She never let it bother her before. She was a giver by nature and could get pleasure from giving it. It was enough she had convinced herself. 

And it was. 

Until that night. 

Until she realized what she had been missing. Until Malfoy showed her that receiving pleasure could be more amazing than she ever imagined. 

She thought the orgasms she could achieve on her own was the height of pleasure. How wrong she was. 

It was the passion. That desperate, needy want that made her feel almost crazed. Malfoy made her feel as if he would die if he didn't have her. She very nearly felt the same. Even in the darkness back then, she could feel how desperate he was for her and in turn, in less than an hour, made her want him in ways she denied her own boyfriend for over a year. 

It was the tension he held in his body, as if he was restraining a raw violence within himself. It was the aggressive touches and caresses that left bruises on her body that she discovered later. The shameless moans, sighs and whimpers he'd release when she barely did a thing. The thorough way he explored her body as though memorizing every inch of her form. 

She missed it desperately and wanted it more than she thought possible. But Ron was her boyfriend and she was not a cheater. She never even entertained the notion of cheating on Ron. 

But...maybe she could do it just one more time to see if she had built up the experience in her head or if it really was heightened senses due to the alcohol. For research purposes, of course. 

_No,_ she berated herself.

She did not want to betray Ron. As dissatisfied as she was with the sex, she still loved him. He was wonderful in every other aspect of their relationship. Ok, mostly every other aspect but no one was perfect. 

She was _not_ a cheat but with the way Malfoy was looking at her, with such intensity it was making her body tense and her core tight, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Seeing that need she so desperately wanted clearly expressed in Malfoy's eyes as they raked over her was doing things to her. And being alone with him for the first time since that night in that dark Ravenclaw dorm room was sorely testing her resolve to not give in to him. 

He took a small step closer to her.

"Let me taste you, Hermione. Let me do what the Weasel won't do for you. We don't have to have sex. You don't even have to touch me," he entreated.

Despite the arousal coursing through her veins, she eyed him skeptically. Draco Malfoy, the quintessential goblin wrought spoon fed heir offering a service without some type of payment? Preposterous. "You'd perform oral sex on me for nothing in return?" she asked, disbelief clear in her voice. 

"I won't say I'll get nothing in return." His lips curved into a smirk as he bent down to brush her ear with his lips, "I'll get to finally taste that tight, dripping wet little cunt of yours," he growled into her ear. He pulled back to look down at her, the smirk now gone and his face now a mask of want.

She had to bite her cheek not to moan out loud. Gods, she never wanted anything more. The promises in his eyes. She already knew he could fulfill every one of them. He must have saw her opposition crumbling before his eyes because his eyes sharpened. He slowly closed the remaining distance between them. 

"I'll get to finally _see_ it," he stated, his eyes drifting down to settle on the area he was referring to. She watched as his nose flared and thought in a brief moment of panic that he could actually smell her soaking through her knickers.

If she didn't get out now she never will. Malfoy, quick as ever, spoke again before she could verbalize her escape. 

"I'll get to finally hear you scream _my_ name and not that undeserving gits."

She frowned at him then as she backed away, her thighs hitting the desk in her attempt at putting distance between them. She was too angry to notice. Ron was a lot of things but undeserving git was not one of them. 

"Do not-" she started, escape plan forgotten and her reprimand of speaking ill of her boyfriend and denial of his offer ready to be recited with bullet points on the tip of her tongue.

"Don't get me wrong," he said, cutting her off before she began, "I'm undeserving too. I just want to offer myself as a tool for you to use for your own pleasure. You can finally be the selfish one and take what you want without having to reciprocate." 

He closed the remaining distance between them and lifted her chin up with his fingers to look into her eyes. Her breath hitched in her throat. She realized now that she was pressed against her desk and Malfoy was so close she could feel the warmth of his body. So close she could smell mint and whiskey on his breath. Why was it so heady? 

She was forced to look into his eyes and she couldn't look away if she wanted to. His pupils were blown wide making his eyes look black with a thin ring of icy grey. They were glassy. Feverish. His desire for her was so palpable she swore she could feel it coming off of him in waves. Her core actually pulsed and she had to bite back another moan.

Could someone come like this? She felt like she could. She couldn't question it anymore. Draco Malfoy wanted her so much that he looked nearly deranged from it and she had never been more turned on in her life. 

Not since that night had she felt anything like this. It scared her but also excited her so much she felt light headed. 

"All I want in return is to hear your cries of pleasure ringing in the room. See your face when you come in my mouth," he murmured. 

She had to squeeze her thighs together as another flood of moisture soaked her knickers. 

"Say yes," he demanded. His voice was low, raspy. The sound trailed over her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.

She felt like she was under a spell, looking into his eyes that hadn't wavered from hers. That had to be the only explanation for how close she was to changing her mind when she was adamant about not succumbing to him. When she heard herself whisper a husky 'yes' without her expressed intention she blinked in dismay. 

_No. I meant no,_ she thought, panicked. She opened her mouth to rescind the offer and cite a temporary lapse in judgement but the words were never formed when his face turned feral. He made a sound between a growl and a shout of triumph. 

He took out his wand and with a bit of wordless magic that she would have found impressive had she not been otherwise distracted, had all the papers and various items on the desk levitated neatly in a pile on a side table. He flicked it towards the door and she heard the lock click into place before he slapped it down on the desk. 

He scooped her up by the waist and deposited her on the surface and immediately set to work, kissing and licking at her jaw as his hands kneaded her waist, her sides, her shoulders, her arms, her back. 

Just this. Just kissing and touching her made her feel more than anything Ron ever accomplished in all their intimate moments. She wanted to weep. 

She was fine with it before. She was! The clumsy touches and sloppy kisses were not the best but it was theirs. 

But now she knew that night with Malfoy hadn't been an anomaly. Had not been fueled by alcohol and the element of danger of being caught. It was genuine just as his touches were now and that was what broke her. 

All she ever wanted was to feel wanted. Needed. Malfoy made her feel like she could drown in his desire for her.

There was nothing for it. 

She needed this. 

For the second time in her life she let her body overtake her mind. 

She leaned back with a sigh of surrender, inadvertently thrusting her breasts at him. He growled again, his hands sweeping up to cup them both while his thumbs swept over the hard peaks through the soft materials of her garments. Despite the thin barriers, she felt it down to her toes. A powerful jolt of arousal traveled straight to her center, making her hips jerk.

"Fuck," she whispered. 

Malfoy paused in his kisses for a fraction of second as he shivered. He actually shivered as his hands tightened on her hips, his fingers digging into her. The helpless whimper that escaped her was not from pain. 

"Merlin, Granger," he panted into her ear. He took a deep fortifying breath, clearly reigning himself in before loosening his grip. He pulled back to look at her. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered shakily. She wondered why he was apologizing before realizing he must have thought the sound she made was from pain. 

"I-I liked it," she said softly, shyly looking up at him through her lashes.If she wanted him to do it again she couldn't have him thinking she didn't like it. She actually loved it but he didn't have to know that. 

His eyes darkened before he bent back down to resume his work on her neck with more vigor. A soft moan escaped her when he sucked on a sensitive spot beneath her ear. He responded with a low growl, his hands roving her with more urgency.

This. This was what she missed. This undeniable feeling of being desired.

Just once more. She just needed to feel it once more and then maybe she could move on. 

_You're a fool if you believe that._

She stiffened in his arms, that voice, as always, dampening her mood, but then he kissed across her jaw to kiss her lips fiercely, practically prying her mouth open with his tongue. She couldn't help but respond with as much fervor, opening her mouth to allow his insistent tongue to sweep inside. 

He released his grip on her to undo the buttons of her blouse as he continued to kiss her thoroughly. His expertise in undressing a woman did not go unnoticed but she couldn't bring herself to care. He pulled away and she unconsciously chased after him with her lips. She felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment but luckily Malfoy didn't seem to notice as he licked back down her throat all the way down to the tops of her breasts. 

His tongue swept beneath the fabric of her camisole, trying and failing to reach her nipple. With a growl of frustration he reached up one hand to pull the lacy fabric down, revealing one hard peak. He moaned low in throat before muttering "perfect" then took it into his mouth, sucking hard. 

She cried out, jerking against him. Her hands flew up to tangle in his silky hair, so unlike Ron's more coarser texture, to hold him closer. How could she have ever confused him with Ron, she vaguely wondered again. He flicked his tongue against her aching nipple then blew on it gently, making all thoughts of Ron disappear. 

Her hands tightened in his hair, enjoying the silken feel of it, as she groaned throatily. He made a little desperate sound in response and that made her arousal increase so much she groaned again. She felt him moving and looked down. He was pulsing against the desk, obviously seeking some relief for himself. 

"Merlin, I'm so fucking hard," he moaned against her skin, confirming her observation. She made a small helpless sound at his confession. 

Was he really? Already? She'd barely even touched him. 

She slipped her hand down to stroke along the front of his trousers to see for herself and felt the undeniable bulge. He was indeed rock solid. She was amazed that he was so turned on when she'd done nothing to elicit it so far. She stroked him again and he pressed against her hand with a groan as he nipped the sensitive skin of her throat.

He was so obviously painfully aroused. She didn't understand why he would offer to please her and not demand the same for himself. It wasn't fair for him to suffer so while he did so much for her. She didn't mind bringing him over too. Honestly, giving pleasure went beyond being something she enjoyed doing. It also turned her on immeasurably. It was the main reason her and Ron managed to last this long. 

She desperately want to get him off too. Surely he wouldn't mind her bringing him to orgasm with her -for she had no doubt he would make her come- just like he requested the last time they were together. 

She stroked him again then squeezed his length. He pulled back from her chest to gasp and she could feel him throbbing in her hand. She remembered the feel of him on her tongue. Would he let her suck him off again? She wouldn't mind hearing those sounds he made back then.

"Can I taste _you_?" she asked, her voice so husky she barely recognized it. She squeezed him again. He shuddered violently with a muffled curse before brushing her hand away. He took a deep breath before looking at her, his eyes blazing.

"No," he gritted out, "as much as I want your hands and that glorious mouth on me, it's about you tonight."

"But I want to," she argued, her hand moving towards his groin again. With a low chuckle he caught her hand in his and held it to her side. 

"I see you're just as much a temptress as you were back then," he murmured.

He bent his head to her neck and licked that spot he had discovered back then and hadn't been touched since. The spot that made her toes curl and her back arch.

"God…" she whispered. 

He sucked on the skin and she swore she could feel it all over her body. She whimpered softly as she scooted to the edge of the desk to press closer against him. She felt tremors run through his body and wanted to purr. He made her feel so powerful when he reacted in such a way to the smallest of touches from her. She pressed up against him just to see if he'd do it again. 

"Fuck," he whispered, "you're making it very difficult for me not to take you on this desk." He trailed his nose up her neck, inhaling a deep breath as his hands tightened around her hips, his fingers digging into the silk and her flesh underneath making her gasp. 

" _Merlin_ , how I want to," he growled in her ear.

He exhaled slowly before his grip loosened. He pulled back a bit, yet remained close enough for her to feel every word as a puff of warm breath against her neck. 

"Forgive me. It seems everytime I'm with you my control slips. You're just so..." he trailed off, his hands tightening again. 

Deep breath. Release. 

"But I told you you didn't have to do anything. I am a man of my word, after all."

He cupped her bum and squeezed before leaning back down to brush his lips against her ear. "But I will confess, I want you so badly it fucking hurts," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. He bit the soft skin of her neck where it met her shoulder, fingers digging into her arse as he pulled her closer to the edge of the desk towards him. She felt his erection press against her hip. 

"Oh, God," she moaned, nearly overcome by his obvious need for her. How she wished Ron could make her feel a fraction of what he could with just his touch, his words and the sinful sounds he made. She was already so close and they'd not progressed beyond making out. 

"Please," she pleaded, trying to move even closer to him, practically falling off the desk. She needed him to touch her more. Make her feel more. Just more. This was a level of arousal she had only experienced once and only with this man. She never expected to experience it again. It was more intoxicating than she remembered. She felt drunk on it. Lightheaded. Inhibitionless. Emboldened.

She was absolutely certain if he but asked she'd do anything he wanted not only willingly but enthusiastically in this moment if it meant he'd continue to make her feel like this.

He didn't even have to perform oral sex on her like he promised. She was fairly certain she could come like this.

  
  


-oOo-

"You're not going to make me wait, Granger?" he teased in a strained voice, grasping her firmly to still her writhing hips. A few seconds more and she would rub him to completion and that just would not do. Not when he was given this once in a billion chance of a lifetime. He pulled back, pressing his hips back into the desk to prevent himself from spilling all over her. 

"Wait for what?" she asked dazedly, eyes wide and uncomprehending. It was a look one would never see on Hermione Granger's face. It turned him on beyond reason. He shut his eyes as a particularly strong bolt of lust shot through him. He pulsed against the desk once again for relief feeling like a virgin, teenaged boy, barely suppressing the sounds that wanted to escape his throat.

He didn't know how she did it. How she always manage to be so innocent yet so seductive. Always nearly turning the tables on him where he'd find himself the one begging.

"Nothing," he croaked out, "stand up for me." He needed to take control before she took it from him without even realizing it. 

She surprised him by doing what he demanded with no questions and surprised him even more when she made no protest when he sunk to his knees and unzipped her skirt to slide it slowly down her thighs. 

He helped her step out of it, draping it carefully on the desk. He looked up at her as he slowly ran his hands from her ankles up her smooth legs. She stared down, clad only in silver stilettos, silky knickers, her unbuttoned blouse, and her camisole, now pulled down leaving her breasts exposed. A very sexy sight indeed, but it was the look on her face that made him want to pull her down to the ground with him and have his way with her despite his promise. 

She was biting her lip, brow furrowed, cheeks flushed. Her classic puzzled face. She was clearly unsure of what to do next. Just like the look she gave him a few moments ago that had him thrusting against the desk, this look had a devastating effect on him. 

As he had thought, having her in the light would be a completely different experience than the last time. Seeing her facial expressions, how her entire body flushed beneath his touches, each twitch, jerk and shiver and the accompany gasp, sigh and whimper she made was bordering on too much. Over a year of shagging women in the dark hadn't prepared him for this in the least. 

He had thought prudish Hermione who tried to block him at every step turned him on. He even seeked that out when choosing a bed mate for a short stint, opting for seemingly quiet and bookish women who seemed more in place at a library than in his bed. None of them got him even close to the delirious lust he felt for Hermione that night. 

Tonight, however, the pliant, obedient, and seemingly inexperienced Hermione in front of him had him feeling like he would burst out of his trousers at any moment. 

She acted just as inexperienced as she had back then and he had to wonder what had her and Ron even been doing all this time?

He discarded the thought. It didn't fucking matter. Hermione Granger was standing before him, giving herself to him. Willingly. _Him._ Draco Malfoy. He never in his wildest dreams thought this would happen and he would be damned if he wasted this opportunity. He was going to make her scream his name so bloody loud they'll hear her in the ballroom. 

He kissed her soft thigh pulling a sweet little whimper from her. It made his cock _throb_. Fuck he could still very nearly come just from the sounds she made as well. 

Why did she affect him so? 

Was it because it was the know it all swot letting him touch her like this? Or was it because beneath her no nonsense exterior hid a being astoundingly sexual in nature? 

He couldn't figure it out and he didn't have the frame of mind to think on it too deeply. The smell of her arousal, which was better than he remembered, was clouding his senses and all he truly cared about at the moment was making her come all over his face. 

He gently bit the spot he just kissed making her whimper again, pressing her thighs together as she stroked her fingers through his hair. Her innocent touch felt entirely too good. His cocked throbbed more insistently.

He groaned as he buried his face against her thigh, rubbing it back and forth in an effort to ground himself but the silkiness of her skin and the sound of her catching her breath did the opposite. Every single thing she did turned him on it would appear. He briefly wondered if he could keep it together long enough to get her off. If he couldn't do even that he would no longer think of himself as a man. 

He lifted her left leg to rest on his shoulder. He had a task to complete and he was allowing himself to get distracted. 

"Granger. Fuck," he cursed when he saw she soaked through the fabric of her knickers. He ducked his head to swipe his tongue up the damp satin gusset. She sighed, tilting her hips to press closer to him. 

"If you only knew how many times I've dreamed of this," he whispered against her before mouthing her through the fabric. She made a sound he was sure the Weasel never pulled from her as she squirmed against him. 

"Please, Malfoy," she begged again. 

"Call me by my name," he demanded before licking up the satin again. He needed to her say _his_ name. He mouthed at her clit, groaning at the way she bucked against him. 

"O-only if you c-call me by mine," she said in a strained whisper.

"Whatever you want, Hermione," he whispered back, knowing he meant far more than saying her given name. That was something he'll think about later when he was alone with only the memory of her. He already knew he would never be allowed to have this again. 

For that reason, he wanted to make this so good for her she never forgot him. To make sure every touch she received from the Weasel be a disappointment from this point on. It was vindictive but he wanted to make sure she would never be satisfied with anything Ron or any other man ever did to her again. Merlin knew he hadn't been satisfied by the myriad of women he had since her. 

He pulled her knickers to the side and licked one firm strip up her slit. He groaned as loud as she did the moment his tongue touched her. His eyes rolled back in sheer bliss at the first taste of her. Merlin, how he wanted this. He trailed up her opening slowly then swirled his tongue around her clit with a firm press. 

"Ah..." she cried out, her hips jerking against him. If he wasn't supporting her body with his hands he was sure she would have collapsed. From just one lick. He pulled back with a smirk. He was going to thoroughly wreck her. 

"On the desk," he commanded roughly. She obliged immediately, hoisting herself onto the surface and looking at him as if awaiting further instructions. 

Draco had to look away for that look alone had him wanting to rip the remainder of her clothes off and fuck her senseless. She really had no idea how utterly desirable she was like this. Her obliviousness to her own sex appeal was also a debilitating turn on. 

He focused on her thighs instead of looking at her face, watching his hands slide up her soft skin. 

"You're bloody gorgeous, you know that?" he murmured as he hooked his fingers into her ruined knickers. 

He didn't give her time to answer when he ripped her knickers off in one fluid movement and slipped them into his pocket. 

He parted her thighs wide and took a quick glance at her exposed cunt. It was quite literally dripping onto the desk and it took every ounce of restraint he had not to come at that very moment. 

"Bloody fuck," he swore softly before ducking down and burying his face between her legs. 

"Oh, God," she cried out. He wasted no time licking and sucking every bit of her before taking her clit and sucking hard. 

Merlin, she tasted so fucking amazing. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, pulling them wider apart as he licked her opening like a ravenous dog. 

She bucked violently against him, her hands grabbing the edge of the desk as she gyrated her hips with mindless abandon. He looked up her body, watching as her stomach flexed sporadically, her breasts bouncing, her head thrown back. 

She looked like a goddess to him in that moment making him suck and lick her with a newfound desperation. He was determined to worship her like she deserved. 

He moved to shove his tongue deep inside her and fuck her cunt like it was his cock. Oh how he wished it was his cock. Even with just his tongue she was tight, barely letting him in. 

He released a thigh to stroke her with his fingers before sliding one in just to feel that tightness even more. 

She gasped, her hands releasing their tight grip on the desk to grab his shoulders. 

"Draco," she moaned, moving her hips to fuck his finger in earnest. 

_Merlin._ He squeezed his eyes shut. She finally said his name and his cock was _leaking_. He released her other thigh to press his hand against the front of his trousers, groaning helplessly. 

It would be a miracle if he got her off without coming in his pants at this point. 

A forbidden fantasy that he had no expectations of ever experiencing had just been fulfilled. He should be happy with that but he was nothing if not greedy. He wanted more. Hearing her moan his name wasn't enough. He wanted to hear her _scream_ it. 

He adjusted his hand to slide another finger in, rubbing her clit with his thumb in firm circles while pressing that area deep within her he remembered drove her wild. She cried out again, her hips lifting off the desk. 

"Fuck, Hermione. Yes, keep doing that. Keep fucking my hand. I want you to come all over me," he groaned. 

With one last fortifying press he lifted the hand that was held tight against his cock to caress one of her perfect breasts, stroking her nipple with his fingers, watching with hungry eyes as she threw her head back with a gasp, her hips moving frenetically against his face. Gods, she was beautiful. 

"Draco. I'm so c-close," she whispered. 

He immediately replaced his hand with his mouth, using both hands to knead her breasts, uncaring that his fingers were wet with her arousal. Judging by her reaction, she didn't care either. He pinched and twisted her nipples as he sucked her clit.

It only took a moment before she was jerking uncontrollably against him, a long low moan escaping her throat and his name tripping from her lips. 

_Fuck._

He lost himself in her, sucking and licking her release as if it was ambrosia.The obscene sounds of him slurping her arousal filled the room. She buried her hands in his hair, pulling the strands, back arched, body convulsing as she rode out her orgasm. He watched, not daring to blink so he wouldn't miss a single moment of her coming apart for him.

She was magnificent and it had to be the hottest thing he had ever been blessed to witness. He continued to lap at her as occasional spasms passed through her. A particularly large aftershock shook her body and she groaned softly. He had to release a breast to press a hand against the front of his trousers again. It was nearly too much. 

He hadn't been so horny he was on the cusp of coming in his trousers since that night. Since her. She was just so fucking sexy and finally seeing her face as she moaned for him, came for him in such a exquisite fashion was the most gratifying feeling he ever experienced. He never felt as much satisfaction making a woman come as he did now. 

What was it about her that made him feel like this? 

Her body finally relaxed, sagging against the desk, as the last of her orgasm faded away. Her breath came out in soft pants. She released her grip on his hair to gently push him away. He had to take a moment to make sure he was fully in control of himself before finally standing up. He felt as winded as her. 

His back and knees cracked as he stood from kneeling for so long but the look on her face made it more than worth it. She looked dazed, sated, and thoroughly fucked out. 

He felt satisfied that he did that to her but he was still so fucking _hard_. The hardest he ever been in his life. He was so turned on he was sure a stiff wind against his cock would make him come. 

She took a deep breath then began to slowly pull up her camisole. He stilled her hands with his own before realizing he was doing it. 

They were not finished. 

He hadn't heard her scream his name yet. 

"We're not done yet. I want one more. Let me make you come once more."

"Malfoy-" she started.

"Draco," he corrected, "And I know you can. One more, Hermione." He gently moved her hands and began massaging her breasts, pinching her nipples gently as he bent to nip at her neck. He felt ravenous and a little out of control. Her sharp intake of breath told him she would not deny him. He almost sighed in relief. 

"Ok. But I want you to come too."

"Done," he agreed, all too happy to give in to that demand.

"Inside me."

Draco paused in his caresses to pull back and look look down at her face. She stared back at him, her tongue sneaking out to run across her lips. His eyes automatically followed the movement. His cock flexed in his trousers.

_Merlin! This witch!_

He meant it when he promised she didn't have to touch or have sex with him but at the moment he couldn't argue with her if he wanted to. It was foolish of him to think he'd not be out of his mind with desire once he got her off but he would have dealt with it. 

However, deep down he did hope her sense of equality would prevail and he wouldn't have to leave the room harder than he's ever been or worse with him having to scourgify his trousers. 

"Ok," he agreed again, trying and failing to not appear too eager as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. His hands were actually shaking in his need to bury himself deep inside her. 

Her slim hand immediately found it's way into the opening the moment he zipped it down to grasp him. The cry that slipped out his mouth would have been embarrassing any other time, however his dignity was the last thing on his mind right now. She stroked him once, her movement sure and confident despite her earlier displays of shyness. She massaged the head with her fingertips, squeezing slightly and he feared he would come all over her within seconds if he let her continue. 

He grabbed her hand and restrained it at her side with a low groan. She was going to kill him.

"I'm already close. I won't last a minute if you keep doing that," he managed to rasp.

Once again he wasn't even sure if he'd even make it inside her before he came. 

He released her hand to grasp her breast again and bent down to kiss her hard. She responded beautifully, stroking his tongue with her own, moaning into his mouth, arching her back to press her breasts against his hand and chest. He took a moment to wish he'd unbutton his shirt so he could feel her skin against his own when he felt her delicate fingers on his chest, the buttons popping open one by one before she caressed his bare chest.

He kissed her even fiercer in appreciation. 

He pushed down his trousers and pants with one hand, unwilling to release her breast with the other. He only took the time to push them to mid thigh, as his tongue moved against hers. She grew impatient, moving her hips to brush against his hardness as she sucked his tongue and the dual sensation of feeling the wet heat of her cunt and of her tongue had him moaning desperately into her mouth. Her answering moan that vibrated against his tongue almost tipped him over. 

At this rate he would be no better than the Weasel for he was sure he would come the moment he entered her.

"Please, Draco," she whispered against his lips, lifting her hips to brush against him again. 

She was driving him mad. 

"I want to make sure I get you there first. You're going to make me come too soon doing that," he whispered, this short of pleading with her. 

"I don't care about that. I want you to come," she said breathily.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Merlin, if she kept this up it'll be over before it started.

"I won't be gentle, Hermione. I can't be," he confessed, his need for her making his voice harsher than he intended. 

"I like it when you're rough," she whispered.

Bloody fuck. 

This witch had once again switched their roles as he was the one who was now being thoroughly seduced. 

"You like it when I'm rough, you say?" he gritted out, growing closer and closer to losing all reason. Her eyes were wide but she nodded her head just the same.

Well, if that was the case who was he to deny her what they both wanted. If this was to be his last time with her the least he could do was fulfill one last fantasy. 

He lifted her up into his arms, holding her by the back of her thighs. He sighed at the way she automatically wound her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her lips against the skin she could reach. He turned and walked the few steps to the door, only stumbling once, and pressed her against it.

"If that's how you want it, I am going to fuck you against this door. _Hard_. Any objections?" he whispered darkly. He wanted to give her one last chance to opt out because he was too wound up to be anything but brutal.

She shook her head, nearly panting in anticipation. 

"Good," he growled before positioning himself and plunging inside her. 

They both cried out in unison. She was so tight he only made it a quarter in. He pulled out then roughly pushed back in making it halfway. She cried out again, clenching tight around him and he forgot to breath. He pulled out one more time and finally slammed into her to the hilt and they both moaned loudly. 

It felt like coming home. He buried his face in her neck and stood still for a moment to collect himself and give her time to adjust. He was rougher than he intended to be upon first entry but she whimpered and rocked her hips and all feelings of concern faded. As if a dam broke within him he started a hard, punishing rhythm, thrusting into her so roughly she slammed into the door with each stroke. He had the presence of mind to move a hand to cradle her head to serve as a barrier between her and the door as he continued to pound into her. He wasn't going to last and he knew it but he couldn't stop. The last of his restraint had snapped. Already he felt his orgasm coming. 

"Touch yourself. _Now_ ," he commanded, his hand not holding her head digging into the flesh of her thigh. She immediately obliged, her hand flying between them to work over her clit feverishly. 

"Fuck...coming. Need you to come. _Come_ Hermione..." he gritted out between frantic thrusts. He didn't think she actually would but then he felt her muscles begin to flutter around him. 

"Ungh, Draco!" she cried out as her muscles clamped tight around him.

"Oh fuck, Hermione!" he shouted as his orgasm burst forth. It felt like he exploded inside her and he nearly blacked out from the pleasure. 

It was heaven, or nirvana or whatever Muggles called their paradise. He didn't just see stars, he saw galaxies. Gods, this woman could make him come harder than he ever had in his life. 

He pressed his face harder against her neck, biting and sucking on her soft skin, rocking into her still to prolong the experience.

"Merlin, fuck, Hemione" he groaned as another wave of pleasure swept over him when her walls tightened around him one last time. He shuddered against her just as his legs gave out. 

With the last of his strength he held her as he folded to the floor, allowing her to just slide down the door. They both ended up in a panting heap, breathing harshly in the quiet room. 

"That was…" he started, when he could speak again, but he had no words to describe what just happened. Euphoric? Transcendent? Beyond anything he's ever experienced?

"Yea…" she said, her voice was raspy. She cleared her throat, "...yea."

He wanted to kiss her but wasn't sure if he could now that their passion was cooling. She tried to stand on shaky legs, but only managed a few inches before falling back down. He moaned in half pain, half pleasure as his partially erect cock was still within her.

Her breath hitched before she said a breathy "sorry". Her breath brushed against his neck and he couldn't help it. He buried his hand in her curls and kissed her deeply. She whimpered against his lips, opening up for him immediately. 

He inexplicably began to stir within her shocking not only himself but her as well. She made a small sound of surprise, rolling her hips in an automatic response. He would never be able to have enough of her, he realized. He would need to take as much as she would give before he had to let her go again. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Again," he whispered against her lips. 

"Draco, I-ohh" she broke off into a sigh as he gripped her hip and thrusted deep inside her. 

"Again," he repeated. 

"I-I can't," she moaned belying her words as her body fell into the slow rhythm he started. 

"Please, Hermione. I need you. Once more," he begged unashamedly. He was willing to do anything to have her once more. Begging was a small price to pay when he would be more than willing to give her a vault or two.

She gasped as he thrusted deep again before she nodded her head, biting her lip as she rolled her hips against his. He immediately shifted to lay down. 

"Ride me again. I want to watch you," he urged as his hands slid up her body to cup her breasts. He couldn't stop touching them.

Her hips stuttered as he stroked her nipples with his thumbs. Her head fell back, her hands covering his as she moved over him slowly with a soft sigh. 

"Draco," she whispered. His hands squeezed her breasts tighter, his hips thrusting deeper into her in response. Merlin he wished he could keep a recording of her saying his name just like that. 

"Yes, love, just like that," he murmured, thrusting deep into her again. 

Her head snapped up and she stared down at him. He realized his mistake in calling her the endearment she asked for when she thought he was the Weasel when this all started. She stopped moving.

Reminding her of him was the last thing he could have done. Panicking, he rushed to do damage control. 

"I'm sorry. Hermione. I-"

"Its fine. Just Hermione is fine," she interrupted softly, moving once again. 

He could have sobbed in relief. 

"Yes, of course. Hermione," he said, willing to say anything to ensure she didn't leave. 

  
  


-oOo-

She studied his face as she moved over him. The relief on his face was obvious and she could tell he was afraid he made her angry. It wasn't the fact that he called her love that bothered her. It was the the fact that she like it. 

Not only was she cheating but she enjoyed the fact that he called her the name only Ron typically got to use. But there was no point in thinking about that now. Draco was deep within her, his eyes never leaving hers. They were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, lips parted. He was just as lost in this desire as she was. He was more open to her in that moment than he had ever been before. 

She knew he'd give her anything she wanted that moment if she but asked. 

She only wanted one thing.

She wanted to see him lose control for her one more time. 

She rolled her hips pulling a whimper from him and that powerful feeling flooded her again. She dropped her hands that was still over his to run them up his stomach and chest. He moaned as his muscles jumped beneath her soft fingertips. Her core clenched around him in response making his body jump. She grasped his shoulders and bent down to take his lips with hers, licking his lips like he did with her. He opened his mouth with a whine, his hands flying to her waist to grasp her more firmly as he moved faster inside her. 

She matched his speed and he was gasping into the kiss.

She pulled back to whisper against his lips, "Draco, yes. Fuck me harder. Please fuck me harder."

" _Merlin_ , Hermione," he groaned. He planted his feet on the ground to oblige her. He let go of a hip to move his hand between them to stroke her clit. She threw her head back, her curls flying as she gasped then moaned. He groaned as well, thrusting so hard into her, her body bounced. 

"Draco, I'm coming," she cried out, her body beginning to tremble. 

"Gods, Hermione, _please_ come on my cock," he begged. The look on his face and the tone of his voice gave way to the fact that he too was close too and was doing everything he could to hold back. 

He circled her clit twice more and she suddenly came so hard the sound she made wasn't human. She jerked against him, groaning into his ear. He made a desperate sound and just as he did back then, he flipped them over and thrusted into her like his life dependent on it over and over. She let him do whatever he wanted. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tightening her legs around his hips. 

He was muttering under his breath and after a moment she realized he was repeating her name over and over like a mantra. 

With one last thrust and one last broken 'Hermione' he stilled and she felt the hot rush of his release inside her. She hummed in residual pleasure, enjoying the feel of him shuddering above her as he gasped for breath.

He lifted his head to take her lips in a searing kiss, his hips now languidly moving against hers. She kissed him back with just as much passion.

After a few moments he finally stilled atop her, planting soft kisses on her jaw and down her neck. He kissed her lips again before rolling off her, both of them hissing when he finally pulled out. 

They laid side by side in silence, as their breathing slowly returned to normal. She felt amazing but the guilt was creeping in slowly, dissipating the haze of bliss she floated in. 

"I-" she started after a moment.

"...have to go. I know," he finished for her. His voice was neutral. 

She didn't look at him as he took a deep breath and rose up, then offered a hand to her, unmindful of his half dressed, disheveled state. 

She let him help her. She knew she must have looked horrid but she was so sated it was just a passing thought and not yet a real concern. 

He tucked himself back into his trousers, zipping it up and buckling his belt like it took every bit of his energy to do it. If he felt anything like her she completely understood. She was beyond exhausted. She wanted to crawl into her bed and sleep for a couple of days. 

He helped her into her skirt and buttoned up her blouse as she tucked it in. 

She buttoned up his shirt as he summoned his wand and casted a spell to return her hair as close to the style it was in before he had her writhing on the floor. She lifted a brow before wandless casting a spell to tidy his now disheveled hair. He smirked as he tapped her clothing to remove any wrinkles. 

Neither of them spoke as they performed this odd ritual of putting each other back to rights. 

When they were finished they stared at each other for a moment before she looked away first. 

"Hermione," he started and stopped when she looked back at him," I, erm..."

She realized she didn't want to hear whatever it was he had to say. Words would just make this more real.

"Don't. Let's just...not," she cautioned softly. 

He stared at her, looking like he wanted to object to her request before nodding his head. 

She looked around the room before remembering he had what she was looking for. 

"My knickers," she demanded, holding her hand out. 

That smirk she knew was now going to haunt her for the foreseeable future curved his lips.

"Consider them payment for a job well done."

"You said you required no payment."

"I lied."

"Fine. Keep them," she muttered. "What do I get to keep?" she asked in jest.

Surprise swept over his face for a moment before a determined purpose took over.

He removed one of his emerald and gold cufflinks from his cuff. He transfigured it into a gold necklace with the emerald transformed into a small dragon. He handed it to her wordlessly. 

She took it gingerly. "I was joking. This seems like an uneven trade," she murmured as she studied it. The dragon was intricately detailed, the gold chain fine and delicate. It was an impressive piece of magic. 

"Not in the least, Hermione," he responded quietly. 

She looked up at him after he once again used her given name. She recalled him saying it over and over as he came and flushed. He was watching her with an emotion she couldn't identify. She looked away again. 

"You should leave first," he said looking about the room, "I have something I have to do."

She recognized his words from last time and despite the growing awkwardness smiled to herself. 

She turned to the door and walked half way to it before turning around.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. 

"Draco," she called. He looked up at her, his face now blank and clear. 

"How did I range on a scale of one to ten?"

His eyes widened, the cold steel in his eyes melting into liquid mercury. He chuckled softly.

"A twenty," he answered. 

"Ah," she said, a blush diffusing her cheeks, "an improvement."

"An understatement if I ever heard one," he murmured, his eyes holding hers with an intensity she couldn't bear after a moment.

"Goodbye, Draco," she said softly, turning away quickly and moving to the door.

She heard the lock release just as she reached for the doorknob. As she opened the door and exited she heard a quiet "goodbye, Hermione" behind her. She forced herself not to look back. 

Hermione stopped by the loo before returning to the ballroom to check herself in the mirror. He did a good job returning her hair to normal. Her clothes didn't look rumpled at all. The only thing that gave away what she just did was the bruises forming on her neck that could still be seen beneath her sheer shirt and above her collar.

She casted a quick glamour over them and her face to tone down her flush. She looked at herself in the mirror. Instead of the guilt she wanted to feel she felt warm and full as if she finally had a meal she had been craving for ages. 

On some level she guess she did for here she was staring into the eyes of a sated woman. The guilt was there but for now the satisfaction drowned it out. She'll enjoy the aftermath of getting what she secretly wanted for so long until the guilt could no longer be ignored. 

She lifted the necklace to inspect it. It glinted in the bright light of the washroom. Before she changed her mind she slipped it on, tucking it into her blouse and disillusioning it. She took one last look in the mirror and smiled.

She took a deep breath and exited the loo, returning to the ballroom, the ghost of that smile still on her face. 

  
  


-oOo-

Ten minutes later, Draco felt composed enough to go back to the ballroom. He started occluding the moment they were dressed but she disarmed him with that parting question. He spent those ten minutes after she left occluding once again as he came to terms with the fact that having her again would not help him move on. If anything it only made it worse for himself. 

He thought that night haunted him. Now he went and made new memories with her that would haunt him even more. 

He still wanted her even after watching her come three times and having her twice. It wasn't enough. Not in the least. He wanted more and to know he'll never have her again left a hollow ache in his chest. 

He was such a bloody fool. 

He left the room and made his way back to the festivities, taking his time, for he wasn't ready to see her yet.

When he turned the last corner he found Lucy waiting on him which only made his morose mood worsen. She wore that smug look he was starting to truly dislike. A sense of deja vu hit him as he walked towards her. This wasn't unlike the last time he left Hermione to find Lucy waiting for him with this same expression on her face. When he stood before her, the smugness turned to sly curiosity.

"So...how did it go? Everything you wanted?"

He stared at her for a moment before his gaze flicked down to her wrist. She was toying with her "missing" bracelet. 

Realization dawned on him. 

"Somehow I should have guessed you orchestrated the whole thing."

"I am a good friend. I give good gifts."

"Gifts?"

"You must have figured out by now that your _Granger_ did not just accidentally come to your room that night. Brightest Witch of Her Age getting lost in the Ravenclaw tower? Really?"

He stared at her for a moment then laughed bitterly, looking down at his feet. 

"So this is your fault."

"My _fault_? A 'you're welcome' would be appreciated."

"Please forgive me but gratitude is the very last thing I feel right now," he retorted, turning and walking away. He should have known she was plotting something. Was this her intention before they even arrived to this cursed event? Why did he agree to come? Why did he fall directly into her trap? Was he not haunted enough? 

He spotted curly brown hair in the corner of his eye when they passed the open ballroom doors and Merlin help him he couldn't _not_ look. She was once again sitting next to the man he hated most in the world, a faint but pained smile on her face, as he, fully drunk, was in the middle of what looked like yet another war story.

Did he even realized she was gone, he wondered bitterly. He bit back the jealous anger that rose like bile in his throat. Draco knew he didn't deserve her and probably wouldn't know what to do with her if he had her but he would never allow that look on her face if she was his. Never fail to notice when she wasn't by his side. He hurried past the doors, needing to escape.

"It was what you wanted, wasn't it?" Lucy's voice piped behind him as she followed him. He didn't answer. "Why are you mad at me?" she whined. 

As always, the damn witch chose to remain ignorant to the damage she caused due to her careless whims. 

_Because I'm very well a ruined man because of you._

He continued his silence as he continued to the floos, his intent to get home, preferably alone, as soon as bloody possible his main focus.

He remembered his original plan for the evening and sneered. The thought of taking Lucy or any other woman to bed disgusted him at the moment. Possibly forever. 

Fortunately she was smart and didn't follow him any furthur. She always did put self preservation first so no surprise there. He was grateful for it this time around. 

By the time he walked out of his fireplace of his bedroom, a roaring fire sprouting out as soon as he stepped away, his anger had gave way to that clawing emptiness he felt earlier. 

It was a mistake but he'd be damned if he said he regretted it. If given the opportunity again he knew he'd take it, whatever the consequences. 

He sat in one of his plush chairs in his sitting area and summoned a bottle of whiskey and stared at the flames in his fireplace. 

How foolish was he? Foolish enough to fall for a woman he could never have. He uncorked the whiskey and took a long drag straight from the bottle. 

He set the bottle down on the little side table beside him and sighed. 

He remembered what he took and pulled her knickers from his pocket, holding them up in front of him. The light from the fire made the silky fabric glow. He wasn't planning on stealing them but the selfish need to keep a souvenir from this evening made him keep them. 

He hope she kept the necklace he gave her. He wanted her to have a keepsake of him too. He studied her knickers for a while and after a moment of hesitation he pressed them against his face and took a deep breath.

His body's reaction was instant, his cock hardening in his trousers as the smell brought back everything he did with her not an hour ago. 

_Ruined man, indeed._

He sniffed again as his other hand unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, slipping inside to grasp his length. 

As he stroked himself to completion, her knickers pressed to his face, he accepted the lifetime of torment he subjected himself to. 

He may not regret what he did but he knew she would haunt him for the rest of his days. 

As he recovered from his orgasm, shuddering in his chair, her name on his lips, he decided it was worth it. 

The next time he saw her happened to be two days later. It was a complete coincidence. He'd been to the ministry many times and never saw her. Of course the universe saw fit to let him go over a year without seeing her to not being able to avoid her for two sodding days after having her again. 

He hadn't been able to let go of that night at Hogwarts. How he was going to let go of the memory of having her in the ministry archives he had no clue. One thing was certain, seeing her so soon was not fucking helping. 

He figured she'd just ignore him just as she did back then so he didn't bother doing the same like he should. At the very least a look couldn't hurt. 

When they neared each other her eyes suddenly locked with his. It was as if an electric jolt went through his body. He stared back his eyes flicking down when she lifted a delicate hand and pulled the collar of her robe to the side revealing the bruise he left on her and a gold chain adorning her neck. With a slight curve to her lips she let the robe slide back into place as she glided past him. It felt like it happened in slow motion but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds. 

He stopped in his tracks, willing the blood in his body to continue to flow evenly throughout his body and not all flow directly to his groin. He was for the most part successful. 

By the time he was under control and turned around she was gone. 

He stared down the empty hallway. If he wasn't mistaken, that was an invitation, was it not?

Excitement and adrenaline flowed through his veins. 

Should he go now?

No, he'll wait. 

She had taught him that the anticipation was half the fun. 

He turned and continued his way to his destination, a smirk curling his lips. 

He looked forward to making an appointment with the department head of Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures. 

He'll make sure it was her last appointment of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so yea, it was long af but what did you think? Also, if you have some ideas on additional tags I should use please let me know. I'm not very good at the tagging.


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